


Gentleman Lessons

by A_Bit_Drizzy_Out



Category: The Glass Scientists (Webcomic)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Drabble Collection, Father Figures, Fluff and Hurt/Comfort, Friendship, Gen, I latched onto these two having a father/son relationship and never let go, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, The Author Doesn't Have A Plan, Updates are gonna be slow sorry, What's a canon timeline never heard of such a thing
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-05-20
Updated: 2019-05-20
Packaged: 2020-03-08 16:24:23
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,501
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18898321
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/A_Bit_Drizzy_Out/pseuds/A_Bit_Drizzy_Out
Summary: Jasper isn't a bad scientist by any means, but his confidence is shaky and his presentation is shakier. Jekyll takes it upon himself to help with both.(A collection of disarrayed drabbles detailing Jasper and Jekyll's friendship as Jekyll teaches Jasper how to be a gentleman)





	Gentleman Lessons

**Author's Note:**

> Jasper is different from the other lodgers. He's a werewolf, has a sizable hoard of monster specimens, and the light in his eyes died too quickly for Jekyll's liking.
> 
> (Jasper and Jekyll's moments on the bench under the arches and in front of Jasper's new room from chapter 2 rewritten from Jekyll's perspective as a sort of prologue for future drabbles).

The Society for Arcane Science got a lot of reactions from the various downtrodden rogue scientists that Dr. Henry Jekyll would salvage from the streets and gutters of London. 

The vibrant, well-loved labyrinth of eccentric rooms and decor had stunned some into silence, and had inspired others to babble without end. Some trailed after Jekyll in an awed respect of the place (which would ease but never truly melt, at least not yet), while others preferred to observe with their hands and wander. It all depended on the character of whoever Jekyll brought back that day. 

The one thing they all had in common was the stars in their eyes. It made sense, really, considering the circumstances and places he picked up his lodgers from. The Society really was a paradise for them, and for a moment, that allowed Jekyll to think that he was doing something right.

Jasper Kaylock was the same way when he arrived—a bit intimidated, a bit shy around the others, but very curious, looking around and trying to touch things a few times. Even through his hesitance as he took everything in, he was still so blatantly and childishly giddy, riveted by everything new he encountered in the disbelieving but sunny way that a child would be, exemplified in how he was so proud of himself when he caught one of Mr. Griffin's invisible rats and tried to show it off to his guide. The second Jekyll had clapped his hands and ordered the lights on, Jasper’s eyes had lit up with them, even with the mild panic at the start. 

Jekyll wasn’t expecting that light to die out so fast. Then again, Jasper was the first lodger who experienced an emotional 180 on the first day.

The Society was large, but Jekyll only needed some pointers from the lodgers to find the missing newcomer (he ended up getting an explanation as to why Jasper fled as well—the other lodgers had mobbed him about the exhibition and made him panic. Jekyll couldn’t really say he was surprised at this point). He followed where the others said Jasper’s trail led, and eventually spotted him on a bench in the lobby, the borrowed cape he wore moments ago thrown over one of the armrests, all sheltered by the load-bearing, concrete canopies that were held up by lines of archways. His head was tilted down, his face shielded from view by his hat and the shadows from his chosen hiding place. His huddled posture communicated more than enough dejection to make up for that.

Finding Jasper untied the knot in Jekyll’s stomach, but it retied itself almost immediately. Even so, this wasn’t like charming the police, so he didn’t pause for long. He let his feet carry him over to Jasper, turning his eyes to the ceiling as he crossed under the archways. 

“Feeling pensive, are we?” Jekyll asked, his head turned just enough to note that Jasper didn’t react much to his arrival. If anything, Jasper only receded farther into his shell, arms crossing tighter over his knees, supporting his hunched frame. 

Jasper heaved a sigh. “I was just thinking…”

Jekyll coasted up to the bench, sitting down as Jasper he explained himself with hushed and heavy-hearted words. Jasper kept his eyes focused on the tile under his shoes, not shying away but still not fully acknowledging Jekyll either. Jekyll merely let one arm hang over the back of the bench and patiently listened, the other holding his full attention.  
Hesitant as he was, Jasper laid out the problem as clear as day: inferiority. For the longest time, he was alone in his pursuit of rogue science, and when he finally found others who shared his interests, he saw them as so much more accomplished and capable than him. Even among his own people, he still felt isolated and out-of-place—even if he didn’t say as much directly, Jekyll could tell, and he was quick to assure Jasper that there was a place for him at the Society. Just because he wasn’t as flashy as the others didn’t mean he was any less than them. Besides, they had the advantage of being able to play with the toys that Jekyll provided them, and Jasper had only just arrived. The young cryptobiologist’s work was still more than valuable.

Jasper rejected the idea like it was physically painful to think of. Throwing out his arms with open-palmed, upturned hands, he argued that his work wasn’t anything at all. To him, all his research was just a diary and a few critters he picked up from the street, not revolutionary first-hand accounts about werewolf transformations and an impressive collection of hand-caught specimens. He’d finally turned to face Jekyll, and the despaired look on his face was so drastically different from the wonder resided there prior that it hurt to see. 

“I’m not even a real human anymore!” Jasper added, his voice cracking ever so slightly, likely still coming to terms with that concept. 

Not a single star remained in those brown eyes of his. Within the shade of the archway, they had been smothered out to the point that barely a trace remained, and the cloudy mix of frustration and shame that took their place was to blame. Jekyll had already been unprepared for something like this, but the glaring absence of those stars made the air settle on his shoulders far heavier than before. It took quite a bit of effort to keep his expression from slipping, but Jasper had already looked away again, retreating back into his shell exactly as he was before. 

“I’m…” Jasper continued, voice even heavier than the air now felt, muscles tenser and shoulders hunched higher than before, head bowed so his cap obscured his darkened eyes, everything about him screaming how badly he wanted to hide. “…Just a monster.”

“No, you’re not!” Jekyll interjected, working up a reassuring smile. His jump to argue mostly a knee-jerk reaction or an instinct, and this time, Jasper looked towards him, though he still kept his head ducked. Those shadows didn’t suit him. “True, you are a wolf sometimes, but everyone is a monster in their own way. Even I have monstrous things about me!” 

“Oh, right. Sure.” Jasper’s tone remained weighed down and tired, but at least he’d tilted his gaze back up. It was progress.

Jekyll heard snickering in the back of his head, but he’d grown adept to ignoring this other party’s presence in the company of others by then, so he disregarded it immediately.

“Don’t give me that! You haven’t seen me before my morning cup of tea!” Jekyll said with exaggerated confidence, sitting up straighter and pointing a finger upward matter-of-factly.

He looked back to Jasper to see his reaction, but Jasper didn’t move aside from a bit of awkward fidgeting, scratching at the back of his neck. A swing and a miss, but it was worth a shot.

Jekyll sighed and changed strategies. “Look, Jasper, all of these people”—he leaned forward himself, his hand gesturing towards the various lodgers milling about in the lobby, and Jasper observed them in turn—“they were just like you when they first got here. Half of them had to be rescued right off the streets! There’s a reason I borrow that sparkly carriage all the time!”

The smile came more naturally this time, partly out of pride in those rogue scientists. He’d seen how far they’d come from the day he brought each of them back. With an appropriate outlet, the people he’d rescued from the worst conditions had done such astounding things. Nothing said Jasper couldn’t turn out the same way as them. In fact, with how bright Jasper’s stars had been, he could easily be one of the best of them.

“So you’re saying even Bryson started off like me?” Jasper asked flatly, already knowing the answer.

Jekyll, having neglected to remember Bryson’s outlier case, backpedaled. “All right, maybe not Bryson. But everyone else had to work at it!” Even with that minor hiccup, he continued on. “It doesn’t matter who you are at the start. You can remake yourself into anything you want to be!”

Jasper deliberately looked the other way, propping his head up with his hands, elbows on his knees. “Sounds hard.”

Ah, that was the problem. Fine-tuning his skills and methods was just a bit too daunting for him, so he just assumed he’d never get any better. Jekyll had a busy schedule as it was, but he’d already decided what to do about this. Those stars couldn’t stay dead forever.

He got to his feet again without second thought. “It isn’t easy, but it’s been done before. I’ve done it before. And if you’ll give this a chance…” He knelt down directly in front of Jasper, face gentle and tone sincere. “I promise to teach you everything I know. Do you trust me?”

All of this had caught Jasper off-guard. He’d finally sat upright, arms by his sides, palms against the bench seat’s turquoise wood. He looked almost uncomfortable at first, but a bashful smile appeared on his face regardless. In his eyes, there was a flicker.

“Y-yeah. I think I do,” Jasper answered, unsteady but lighter, and the atmosphere followed that example, lifting the weight from Jekyll’s shoulders. At least, most of it. 

Jekyll let out a short laugh to further help untie that persistent knot in his stomach. “Well, I’ll take what I can get.” He stood again and stepped back so Jasper could get to his feet as well, still a little hunched and cautious, but more from embarrassment and timidity than hopelessness this time. All of it made him seem smaller than he really was, small and a little lost but beginning to shine again now that he knew he could look to someone for help.

Jekyll didn’t exactly trust himself to be the best teacher, but he’d already promised to take Jasper under his wing until the young man learned to spread his own. As the Society’s leader, Jekyll made more generous promises than he wanted to admit sometimes, but seeing those stars, faint but healing, directed up at him made this promise feel vital to treat with extra care. Those fragile stars were being entrusted to him, and the last thing he wanted was to be the reason they shattered a second time.

“We’ll begin lessons tomorrow,” Jekyll decided, returning to his persona as he crossed his arms behind his back and began to walk—though the smile he wore was a bit more than just the one he mustered up for diplomacy, “but for now, why don’t you have a nice rest? Your room is just down the hall…” 

He looked back to make sure Jasper was following, and he was, walking almost alongside Jekyll with a sheepish smile, rubbing at his shoulder as another nervous fidget, allowing Jekyll to lead him out from the shadows, the cape forgotten on the bench.

The walk was a quiet one between them, but neither really minded. Jasper was still coming down from his dark emotional high and Jekyll had already said all that was needed for now. He’d decided that more would probably be said in the future, though. If he was going to teach Jasper everything he knew, he might as well make good on that. Besides, he told Sergeant Brokenshire that he’d reintegrate Jasper into society by month’s end, so helping him stand taller on his own two feet would likely help with that as well (he was running out of leeway for his promises, he could feel it). 

The room that had been reserved for Jasper on such short notice wasn’t hard to find. The smell of all those creatures had soaked into the walls and floor, and they’d audibly rattle around in their cages, growling, cooing, and hissing. As Jekyll stopped in front of the door and placed his hand on the doorknob, he’d notice Jasper perk up a bit more from the corner of his eye, standing up straighter and eyeing the door. Curiosity was the obvious reason, but Jekyll saw how his posture finally loosened once the various beasts in the room were in earshot. He couldn’t fault Jasper in the slightest—it seemed like those creatures were all he had for company for a while.

In one motion, Jekyll turned the doorknob and pushed the door open with care and finesse so the creatures wouldn’t be thrown into a tizzy in their curtained cages. “Now, it’s a bit small…”

Jasper heavily leaned over, poking his head in view of the doorway to look inside.

“…But I thought you could use a spot of privacy while you adjust,” Jekyll finished, his smile practically audible itself at seeing Jasper’s eager but inquisitive spirit making a reappearance, even if it wasn’t as strong or pure as before. 

“Oh, wow,” Jasper breathed, clearly not minding the cramped space of his new room—based on where he’d likely settled, it might actually be an upgrade. 

Jekyll stepped away, allowing Jasper to step fully in front of the doorway, though he still hesitated to go inside. From the looks of it, he had begun mulling something over again, slouching back down and hugging himself, eyes focused on where the doorframe met the floor. Though unassured in whatever he pondered, the shadows didn’t touch him this time. 

“Er, Dr. Jekyll?” He spoke up, tone wavering slightly with uncertainty but soft with a gratitude that snuck into his smile as turned to face Jekyll.

“Please, call me Henry!” Jekyll insisted, mostly without thinking. Forcing professionalism with titles and surnames just didn't feel natural now.  
Jasper faltered for a moment, but swallowed down any responses he might’ve been thinking of with an apologetic nod as he edged towards the door, resting his hand on the handle.

“H-Henry…” He uttered, almost testing how that sounded as he looked back at Jekyll, the starry-eyed look he’d had still drenched in an emotional twilight, but the stars still there, alive and twinkling faintly. Instead of amazement, their fuel was the most heartfelt and honest form of thankfulness with a potency he managed to capture and express through one word that said everything he was too skittish to articulate himself. “Thanks.”

Jekyll’s own manner softened, all the stress of the minutes before forgotten. He only found himself able to give a polite nod in return, as his words also chose to abandon him. Even if they didn’t, his vocal cords felt a little too tight and tangled to carry their message. It was enough to add one extra glint to Jasper’s eye before he properly entered his room, so Jekyll decided that it worked well enough.

The door closed, but Jekyll found himself lingering for just a moment longer. In that moment before Hyde began to hassle him, he resolved deep in the half of his soul that he still owned to do right by those stars.


End file.
